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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23130013">The Major and the Private</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/impalaloompa/pseuds/impalaloompa'>impalaloompa</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>First World War, Fluff, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Whump, Geraskier, Hurt/Comfort, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, M/M, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Witcher!AU, World War I, eventual lovers, sort of a happy ending, the boys are in love and care about each other so much, war related gore and violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:09:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,687</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23130013</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/impalaloompa/pseuds/impalaloompa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He wanted to give Jaskier everything. All the happiness he deserved. He wanted to pluck him out of this war, bundle him up and carry him safely home where nothing could ever hurt him again.<br/>“Thank you for saving my life, Jaskier,” he rumbled.<br/>“Right, yeah, I did do that didn’t I?” Jaskier took another drink, his blue eyes sparkling.<br/>“Jaskier – “<br/>“No, don’t say it. You’ll only ruin my evening. Let’s not talk of the war. Let’s talk of… the coast. Let’s go there. You and me. Get away from everything for a while. Do what pleases us,” Jaskier’s expression twitched to earnest and Geralt knew he was being serious.<br/>“I have to go to the Front tomorrow,” Geralt grumbled.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>82</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>143</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>The Witcher - Various Alternate Universes</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey guys so this is my Witcher!AU set during world war 1 and inspired by real events that happened during that time.</p>
<p>So I had this posted on here before but I took it down to edit and reformat so will post chapters once I'm done with them.</p>
<p>Huge thanks to my friend Phoebe who was my amazing beta for this story. </p>
<p>Comments and feedback are greatly appreciated.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A crow perched atop the mangled remains of a corpse. It tilted its head, beady eyes flashing in the afternoon sun, sharp beak nipping at a tag of skin sticking out of shredded clothing. </p>
<p>It croaked a call then hopped to the ground. Back onto the mound of flesh. Pecked again.</p>
<p>Then it was off in a flurry of wings as a man approached and it circled high above, waiting for the chance to continue its meal undisturbed.</p>
<p>Major Geralt De Rivia was tall, broad, dressed in a British officer’s uniform, and leading a chestnut mare by her bridle. </p>
<p>His white hair was tied back in a loose ponytail and he had unusual amber eyes, though the strangest thing about him was that along with the rifle slung over his shoulder, he carried a heavy looking sword.</p>
<p>He paused to look at the corpse. A woman. Blown apart by the bomb that had decimated her farmhouse. The furrows of churned earth stretched out in every direction and bricks littered the ground.</p>
<p>He blinked slowly. This wasn’t an unusual sight. The French countryside was strewn with similar destruction and he had stopped feeling sorrow a few years back. Numb was the best way to describe what he felt. Uncaring at a push.</p>
<p>“Come on Roach,” he grumbled to his horse, his deep voice vibrating in his chest.</p>
<p>He led her away from the farmhouse and further long the dirt road he had been following. If he remembered correctly, there was a small town not far from here where he could rest before continuing.</p>
<p>Geralt had been summoned to the Western Front. He could guess at the reason. The command for the big push was expected to come in soon and he knew that the officers on the ground were spread thin. He couldn’t help wondering though, if there was another reason for his summons.</p>
<p>He grit his teeth as he marched on, enjoying stretching his legs after hours of endless riding. </p>
<p>As late afternoon became early evening, Geralt spotted the small town caressing the gentle slope of the rolling hills beyond and he grunted with relief.</p>
<p>The signs of the war were dotted about, sandbags, empty shells, ripped up earth, but the town itself seemed to be untouched and was, in fact, quite quaint. A strange contrast to the ugliness he was used to.</p>
<p>A French maid eyed him suspiciously as he passed, scurrying about her business like a fretful mouse. Geralt ignored her and strode further into the clustered buildings until he found what he was looking for. </p>
<p>A bar. Le Sanglier. The Wild Boar. </p>
<p>He tied Roach’s reins to the post outside, promising to come back to stable her, and water and feed her soon, then made his way into the bar.</p>
<p>It was small, stuffy, and as he had half expected, crammed full of soldiers, French, British, all drinking and making merry with fair skinned women who seemed to float about the tables.</p>
<p>He ordered a beer from the barman, his French a little sketchy, and wove his way to sit at the empty table in the corner, nursing his tankard and watching the soldiers with a pensive expression on his face.</p>
<p>In amongst the chatter and laughter, Geralt could pick out music and it wasn’t long before he pinpointed the dark-haired young soldier who was splayed across a table, lazy grin on his face as he strummed a small guitar.</p>
<p>Geralt narrowed his eyes at the young man. A Private, his uniform gave him away. He had the attention of the immediate surrounding soldiers and two of the fair women were draped over his shoulders, batting long eyelashes.</p>
<p>He was playing a tune Geralt was unfamiliar with and as he tried to puzzle it out, the young man’s blue eyes met his amber.</p>
<p>Geralt quickly dropped his gaze, glowering at his emptying tankard. </p>
<p>The Private had stopped playing and chairs moved as he approached the Major.</p>
<p>“Sir,” the young man dipped his head as his rank required him to do, but his eyes blazed with curiosity, “Why sit alone in the corner and brood? Do you not care to join in with the rest of us?”</p>
<p>“I want to drink alone,” Geralt growled, not looking at the Private.</p>
<p>“Oh, come on,” when the young man didn’t get a response, he perched himself on the chair opposite Geralt, fingers fidgeting and darted his tongue across his lips, “I know who you are.”</p>
<p>This got Geralt’s attention and he locked his amber glare onto the Private.</p>
<p>“White hair. Big scary sword. You’re Major Geralt De Rivia.”</p>
<p>The few soldiers who had been listening in stopped, some gasping, some gaping.</p>
<p>“The White Wolf?” someone shouted.</p>
<p>More soldiers turned to ogle him, and a triumphant grin twisted the Private’s face.</p>
<p>“You’re the Major who led his entire squadron into a German ambush on the border of Italy. Three hundred men,” someone else piped up.</p>
<p>“They were butchered. Massacred. And only you survived,” another accused him.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” Geralt cursed, rising sharply, causing the soldiers to shrink back a little.</p>
<p>He had hoped the news wouldn’t have travelled that fast. He abandoned his beer and stomped out of the bar, not wishing to cause an escalation in the situation.</p>
<p>“Sorry girl,” he mumbled to Roach, untying her and leading her away, “Looks like we’ll be camping under open sky again tonight.”</p>
<p>He was almost out of town when he heard hurried footsteps behind him, and he cast a glance over his shoulder. The young Private was following him, his guitar strapped to his back, bouncing off his pack.</p>
<p>“What do you want?” he snapped, turning his amber eyes back on the road ahead.</p>
<p>“I rather thought that I’d come with you, sir,” the man huffed, falling into step beside him.</p>
<p>“Go away,” Geralt growled.</p>
<p>“Sorry about them back there,” the Private mused, “Your reputation precedes you, and not in the good way.”</p>
<p>“I said fuck off,” Geralt slammed to a halt, rounding on the Private.</p>
<p>The young man was unfazed and offered him his hand.</p>
<p>“Private Julian Alfred Pankratz,” he smiled, “But everyone calls me Jaskier.”</p>
<p>When Geralt didn’t shake his hand, his face fell slightly but he quickly composed himself.</p>
<p>“The tales of your battles and heroics are the stuff of legend. It’s just a pity that your latest, um, misfortune, has taken the focus. You just need to rebrand your image, sir,” Jaskier fell into step with him again as Geralt marched on, “And what better way for tales to spread than through a travel companion, right?”</p>
<p>“Go back to your squadron,” Geralt gruffed.</p>
<p>“Right, well, the thing about that is, I can’t. Doesn’t exist anymore. Got blown to bits by the Germans, lost both our commanding officers and the boys scattered. I could just spend more days in that bar but traveling with you will be far more interesting.”</p>
<p>“I’m going to the Western Front,” the Major grumbled, hoping that would deter the young man but Jaskier kept pace with him, looking thoughtful.</p>
<p>“Do you think the Jerrys will make another move against us? It’s been too quiet out there, something is bound to go down soon,” Jaskier tucked his hands into his pack’s straps, a slight bounce in his step.</p>
<p>“Hm,” Geralt grunted.</p>
<p>They continued together on the road as the sun slowly sank behind the horizon, the Private babbling on incessantly, mostly about nothing in particular and Geralt had stopped listening about half a mile back.</p>
<p>He should just order the Private away. He didn’t want him there. And yet… there was something about him that… intrigued Geralt. He couldn’t place what it was. Something about his optimism and charm that Geralt hadn’t come across in too long, it was something he had, surprisingly, missed. So, he let Jaskier tag along. For now.</p>
<p>“-and then Peterson came running back through with his pants round his ankles as the girl’s mother chased him out and – wha – what are you doing?” </p>
<p>“Making camp,” Geralt looped his horse’s reins over a low branch and stepped off the road, inspecting the sheltered dip and taking off his pack, rifle and sword.</p>
<p>“Here? This close to the road? Don’t you want to find somewhere a little more… hidden?”</p>
<p>“We’ll be fine here,” Geralt gruffed, unrolling his bedroll and flumping down on it.</p>
<p>Jaskier paused, fiddling with the strap of his guitar.</p>
<p>“Major,” he tried again but Geralt just grunted at him.</p>
<p>“Keep going if you like, I’m stopping here,” he growled, turning his back on the Private.</p>
<p>He heard Jaskier sit down about an arm’s length away, the twang of guitar strings as the instrument was placed on the ground.</p>
<p>Jaskier started humming something under his breath. Geralt set his jaw, eyes screwed shut, but then flipped over to glare at the young soldier.</p>
<p>“Will you shut up?” he snapped.</p>
<p>“Right… sorry,” Jaskier shuffled, keeping his eyes down, still sitting but leaning against his pack. There was a nervous fidget in his fingers.</p>
<p>Geralt turned away again and eventually drifted into sleep.</p>
<p>***<br/>The moon was still high in the velvety black sky when Geralt jerked awake. </p>
<p>He sat up, hairs on the nape of his neck standing up and looked around. </p>
<p>He could just make out Jaskier who was curled up on his side, using his pack as a pillow and snoring softly. </p>
<p>He stared into the surrounding darkness, willing his eyes to adjust in the light of the waxing moon. </p>
<p>Movement to his left caught his attention but it was only Roach, shifting restlessly, her tail flicking and her ears pricked.</p>
<p>Geralt felt a sense of unease come over him. He leaned across and shook Jaskier.</p>
<p>“Private,” he hissed, “Wake up.”</p>
<p>Jaskier blinked awake, startled and gazed up at him.</p>
<p>“Sir?” he struggled to focus.</p>
<p>“Shh,” Geralt kept a hand on Jaskier’s shoulder as he searched the dark.</p>
<p>There was a noise, a rustle, then the night exploded.</p>
<p>Dark shapes descended on them and Geralt punched and kicked to try and free himself. He groped about for this rifle, his sword, anything to defend himself.</p>
<p>Jaskier cried out in pain somewhere to his left and as he fought to get to his feet, something hard connected with his head and he fell to the ground and into black.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was a throbbing pain in his temple. His arms ached.</p><p>As his head began to clear and his vision focused, he realised that his hands were bound behind his back and he was sitting against… Jaskier. He could hear the Private’s shallow breathing, feel the way his fingers were pressed against his own, and he quickly realised they were tied together, back to back.</p><p>The tinge of dawn on the horizon gave enough light to see the four men who were rummaging around in Roach’s saddle bags and in his and Jaskier’s packs.</p><p>He struggled, pulling at the crude ropes binding his hands. </p><p>“Sir?” Jaskier husked, “Are you okay?”</p><p>“Fuck,” Geralt growled, twisting his wrists painfully but still not being able to loosen the rope.</p><p>His movements caught the attention of one of the men.</p><p>The man stood, narrowing his eyes at them. Another was pulling thing’s out of Jaskier’s pack and he kicked the guitar out of the way.</p><p>“Hey, hey that’s my guitar! Be careful with that” Jaskier wriggled and strained against the ropes, “Quick, Major, do something!”</p><p>“Shut up,” Geralt gruffed.</p><p>The man who was standing cleared the space between them in a single stride and kicked Geralt in the face. Geralt grunted.</p><p>“Sie beide halten die klappe,” the man snarled at them.</p><p>“Fuck,” Jaskier wailed and he also received a kick to the face. The noise he made twisted Geralt’s gut.</p><p>“Leave off,” Geralt snarled.</p><p>These men were German. What were they doing so far south? They couldn’t have broken though the Western Front already. They weren’t wearing uniforms but carried themselves like soldiers. </p><p>“Töte sie einfach,” one of the others rummaging among their things cast over his shoulder.</p><p>“No!” Jaskier trembled, “No don’t kill us, there’s no need for that.”</p><p>“You speak German?” Geralt frowned, amber glare never leaving the man standing over them.</p><p>“My German’s rough but I can get by,” Jaskier sucked in a breath, “Nimm was du willst, aber lass uns in ruhe.”</p><p>The Germans laughed at him and continued to pocket anything they deemed of value.</p><p>They spoke amongst themselves and Jaskier did his best to listen.</p><p>Geralt watched the four men as they sat together and picked through the rations he had been carrying.</p><p>“Major,” Jaskier whispered, “I think they are deserters.”</p><p>“Hm,” Geralt thought quickly, “Tell them if they let us go, I can give them safe passage through France and across the border to Italy.”</p><p>“What?” confusion and shock tainted Jaskier’s voice.</p><p>“Just do it,” he grumbled.</p><p>Jaskier did as he was told, and the men looked at him suspiciously.</p><p>“Und wie ist das möglich?” one of the men asked.</p><p>“He wants to know how that’s possible,” Jaskier fidgeted.</p><p>“I’m a Major in the British Army. I can write them a pass giving them pardon and permission,” Geralt blinked slowly.</p><p>Again, Jaskier translated and the German men spoke together quickly.</p><p>“Und woher wissen wir, dass dies wahr ist?” one of them sneered.</p><p>“They want to know if you are telling the truth,” Jaskier mumbled.</p><p>“My military seal. In my pack. I can write the letter and authenticate it,” Geralt nodded at them.</p><p>After Jaskier translated, the man with Geralt’s pack found the seal, some paper and a pen.</p><p>“Dann tu es,” the man thrust the items at Geralt, and another came to cut the ropes binding his hands behind his back with a short knife. </p><p>As soon as he was free, Geralt whipped round, smashing his forehead into the man’s face and grabbed the knife. The man fell back howling, clutching his bloody, broken nose.</p><p>The three others were on him instantly and he slashed and stabbed ferociously.</p><p>The ropes were now loose enough for Jaskier to scramble free, he dragged one of the men off Geralt and wrestled him to the ground.</p><p>Geralt tore the blade through one of the men’s arms and punched him hard in the gut. The German crumpled to the ground and Geralt kicked him hard in the face.</p><p>He rounded on the last man who dove for his rifle. Geralt threw the knife expertly and it thudded into the German’s thigh. The man screamed and keeled over, still reaching for the rifle. Geralt snatched the weapon and pointed it at him.</p><p>A shot rang out and Geralt blanched. He hadn’t fired.</p><p>He whipped round to see the man Jaskier had been fighting slumped over him, blood spilling from the bullet that had ripped right through his chest. Soaked in red, Jaskier quickly shoved him off, the German’s pistol held in his shaking hands.</p><p>Geralt turned on the man at his feet again and without hesitation, shot him in the face, spattering the dry earth with blood and brain matter.</p><p>The two German’s who were still alive, clambered to their feet and took off, running as fast as their legs would carry them.</p><p>Geralt held the rifle up for a moment, but lowered it again, letting the men go. They wouldn’t last long in their condition anyway. </p><p>He turned to Jaskier who was frantically trying to wipe the blood off his uniform without success. The Private’s breath sobbed in his chest and his eyes were wide with shock.</p><p>“Private,” Geralt knelt next to him, “Private. Jaskier.”</p><p>He took hold of Jaskier’s arms, stilling him.</p><p>Blue met amber and for a moment the two men just looked at each other.</p><p>As Jaskier seemed to regain his senses, Geralt stood and started to gather their belongings.</p><p>“Fuck,” he grunted when he investigated what was left of his rations. A crumbled slice of bread and a small block of hard cheese. Damn those Germans.</p><p>Jaskier moved to help him, stuffing things back into his pack and when he reached his guitar, he inspected it carefully. No damage. Still in tune. He breathed a sigh of relief. </p><p>“That was…” he looked up at Geralt, “Good thinking back there.”</p><p>“Hm,” Geralt slung the saddlebags back over Roach and made sure that she hadn’t been hurt by the Germans.</p><p>“They were going to kills us, or leave us for dead,” he chewed his bottom lip.</p><p>“Say what’s on your mind,” Geralt grumbled, slinging his rifle and sword back over his shoulder.</p><p>Jaskier hesitated, then – </p><p>“I did say that we should find somewhere else to camp,” he mumbled, looking at his boots.</p><p>“So, this is my fault?” Geralt swung himself up onto Roach and nudged her forwards.</p><p>“No, no that’s not what…” Jaskier hurried to keep up and fell into step beside the horse.</p><p>“Are you okay?” Geralt cast a sideways glance at him.</p><p>“I need a bath,” Jaskier responded, avoiding Geralt’s question, “And clean clothes.” </p><p>“We can stop at the river when we reach it. It’s only a few miles ahead if I remember correctly,” Geralt grumbled.</p><p>“Right. Good,” Jaskier looked up at him again, “Do you think I could hop up there with you? It’s just that my feet are killing me and – “</p><p>“Don’t touch Roach.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>comments and feedback are greatly appreciated</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He stood waist deep in the river. The water was cool and soothing against his sore muscles and grazes.</p>
<p>Jaskier scrubbed the blood from his skin and watched the current carry it away. He swallowed the bile rising in his throat.</p>
<p>They say that killing people becomes easier the more you do it. They say that the Germans aren’t people so it’s even easier. But when you see the light leave another’s eyes and feel their blood, their warmth, their life seeping into you, tainting your soul, it never gets any easier.</p>
<p>Jaskier wasn’t built for war. It wasn’t in his nature. But the past few years had shaped him into a soldier, and he did what was necessary for his country… and for his own survival. <br/>He’d much rather be at home, along the coast of Devon in England, composing music and finishing his teaching degree. To teach others, especially children, how to learn and embrace music was the only thing he had ever wanted. </p>
<p>Now, of course, he wanted the war to be over.</p>
<p>He splashed water on his face, shaking his wet hair out of his eyes and stood there for a moment, just breathing, taking in the pleasant summer air and the peace of the river. <br/>Trees lined both banks, with the far bank rising steeply and the other littered with debris and sand. The current was soft here and the surface water barely moved, apart from when traveling round the rocks jutting out from the riverbed, causing the water to ripple.</p>
<p>One could almost forget there was a war going on.</p>
<p>Jaskier sighed and returned to the sandy bank. His blood-soaked uniform had been washed and was lying on a fallen tree, drying in the sun. The spare uniform from his pack was folded neatly on a boulder close by and after drying himself with a rag, he quickly dressed, pulled on his boots then perched on the boulder, reaching for his guitar and plucking absently. </p>
<p>He loved the weight of the instrument, how its strings felt under his fingers, the melodies that vibrated through its body.</p>
<p>Footsteps behind him halted him and he whipped round but relaxed immediately as Geralt passed by and paused at the water’s edge.</p>
<p>The Major didn’t look at him, but out across the river.</p>
<p>“I thought you’d drowned, you’ve been gone a while,” Geralt hummed.</p>
<p>“Just enjoying the peace,” Jaskier strummed again, fingers fluttering over the strings.</p>
<p>“Hm.”</p>
<p>“Are you getting in?” Jaskier asked, “I can leave if you are.”</p>
<p>“No. I’m not.”</p>
<p>Jaskier watched the Major standing stoically by the river. All the stories about the man just didn’t do his stature justice. He was dark and imposing, quick and clever, brave and strong. There were so many things he wanted to know about him. So many things he wanted to ask.</p>
<p>He bit his bottom lip, drawing courage from his music.</p>
<p>“What happened with your squadron?” he asked.</p>
<p>Geralt narrowed his eyes.</p>
<p>“Wrong information. Wrong time. Wrong place.”</p>
<p>“And you were the only survivor?” Jaskier pressed, still gently playing his guitar.</p>
<p>“I know what you all think of me. The monster who led his men to their doom,” Geralt grumbled, again, not looking at the Private but glowering out at the water.</p>
<p>“I don’t think that,” Jaskier spoke softly, “I think you did your best with what you had. That’s what we’re all just doing, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>Geralt turned to look at him.</p>
<p>“Well, if you’re not going to bathe can I suggest we find something to eat because I don’t know about you sir, but I am starving,” Jaskier hopped off the boulder, swung his guitar over his shoulder, gathered up his now dry uniform and made his way back up the bank towards Roach who was grazing grass a few yards from them.</p>
<p>He felt Geralt’s amber eyes watching him as he stuffed his uniform into his pack and picked up his rifle.</p>
<p>“Jaskier,” Geralt’s low voice sent a quiver through his insides, “Thank you.”</p>
<p>“Right you are Major. So, where to now? Is there a village or something nearby? Somewhere we might be able to barter for food? I really don’t want to have to go today on an empty stomach,” Jaskier strode off, not waiting for Geralt to catch up.</p>
<p>“Yes, but it’s this way,” Geralt mused, taking Roach’s reins and walking parallel with the river.</p>
<p>Jaskier spun on the spot and marched in the new direction. </p>
<p>“Right. Good,” Jaskier fell into step slightly behind Geralt, “When was the last time you ate a decent meal because I honestly can’t remember.”</p>
<p>Geralt reached into his pack and pulled out the small cloth he had wrapped the last of his rations into. He broke off a piece of the cheese and handed it to the Private.</p>
<p>“Major – “ Jaskier tried, stunned.</p>
<p>“Just call me Geralt,” Geralt blinked at him, stuffing the rest of the cheese into his mouth and continuing on.</p>
<p>Jaskier nibbled delicately at the cheese, trying to savour the bland flavour and make it last as long as he could.</p>
<p>He had never known any high-ranking officer to share rations with someone ranked below him and Geralt’s gesture had caught him completely off guard. He couldn’t find the words to thank him.</p>
<p>Geralt was just enjoying the silence.</p>
<p>They emerged out of the trees onto barren farmland and followed the fence line away from the river.</p>
<p>They covered a fair bit of ground over the next few days. The village Geralt led them to provided an opportunity to trade coin for bread, dried meat and fruit, as well as a flask of wine, and an apple for Roach. Jaskier had taken the opportunity to entertain the soldiers and villagers in the market with songs and the story of the quick-thinking Major who outsmarted a few German deserters. He had been very aware of Geralt watching him as he sang and made sure to wink at him as he finished with a flourish. He could have sworn he saw Geralt blush slightly as the Major looked away.</p>
<p>After spending the night with some generous villagers, they had set off again, the road taking them north through winding country, Geralt astride his mare, Jaskier plodding beside, plucking out tunes on his guitar. </p>
<p>They had camped in a rocky outcrop, enjoying the wine and a small portion of the meat and fruit, and when morning came, they both found they had slept rather well.</p>
<p>For the first time in a long time Jaskier felt at ease. He could forget all the horrors and dangers of the war and enjoy having company. Someone who, even though he knew Geralt didn’t listen half the time, he could talk to and who actually put up with is nonsensical babbling. </p>
<p>He had learned very little about the Major, but he put that down to the man being very private and protective of himself, and Jaskier couldn’t blame him. He, however, wore his heart on his sleeve and spoke aloud most of the thoughts that popped into his head.</p>
<p>Though, not all of them. He couldn’t deny that he was very intrigued by this white-haired man, attracted to him even. He was aware of every look, every movement. The way he squeezed Roach’s reins, the gentle caressing of her neck. How he sat in the saddle, deep and confident. When his eyes flicked to him, making sure he was keeping up. <br/>Jaskier’s heart felt tight in his chest. This new feeling creeping up on him was unexpected but exciting and he was desperate to know what Geralt really thought of him.<br/>The man didn’t talk much, and when he did it was usually a single word, or a short sentence if he was lucky. Mostly he just travelled in silence, half listening to Jaskier, half brooding on whatever it was that swirled in his thoughts that day. </p>
<p>Jaskier was currently talking about another Private he had known about a year back. How the poor bugger had both his legs blown off and how Jaskier had to carry him four miles to the nearest medical outpost.</p>
<p>He spoke with a casual air, absently, aloof, but the look in his eyes caught Geralt’s attention.</p>
<p>“Did he make it?” the Major grumbled.</p>
<p>“Sorry?” </p>
<p>“Your friend. Did he make it?”</p>
<p>Jaskier smiled sadly, “No. But he gave me his guitar before he died.”</p>
<p>Geralt nodded and Jaskier swallowed hard.</p>
<p>Before he could talk again, Geralt stiffened in his saddle and narrowed his eyes, trying to peer down the road in front of them.</p>
<p>“What’s going on? Geralt?” Jaskier spotted the convoy of British soldiers in the distance.</p>
<p>“Hm,” Geralt spurred Roach on, leaving Jaskier to jog to catch up.</p>
<p>Jaskier was puffing by the time he reached the commotion, and what a commotion it was.</p>
<p>There were about twenty soldiers, mostly Privates and Lance Corporals trying and failing to fend off a large group of citizens who seemed to be trying to get the soldiers to follow them. The Captain of the squad was yelling at a squat man to get out of the way of their trucks and let them pass. The squat man was shouting back in venomous French, waving his arms about and red in the face.</p>
<p>Geralt had dismounted and gone to the Captain’s side. Jaskier hurried to catch up with him.</p>
<p>“What’s the problem?” Geralt folded his arms across his chest.</p>
<p>“Major! This man, this buffoon, will not get out of our way. We are on an important mission and must get to the Western Front as soon as possible but I can’t get through to this cheese eating, snail munching frog!” the Captain’s moustache quivered in his anger and Jaskier had to force himself to not laugh.</p>
<p>“Hm,” Geralt turned to the Frenchman and scraped up what French he knew, “Bonjour. Quell semble être le problème?”</p>
<p>The man launched into a very fast rant which Jaskier was able to pick out a few words to make sense of it. His French wasn’t as good as his German but Geralt seemed to follow what was being said.</p>
<p>“He want’s your help,” Geralt turned to the Captain, “His village was attacked last night, and he needs your help to rescue the trapped villagers.”</p>
<p>The Frenchman’s eyes were wide and imploring. The other civilians had gathered around him, muttering to each other.</p>
<p>“Poppycock,” the Captain snarled. “I do not have time for this.”</p>
<p>“We should help,” Jaskier piped up, receiving a barbed look from the Captain.</p>
<p>“Remember your place Private,” he growled.</p>
<p>Before Jaskier could defend himself, Geralt had stepped between them. The Captain eyed him mistrustfully.</p>
<p>“Who are you?” he snipped.</p>
<p>“Major Geralt De Rivia,” Geralt glared, “And Private Pankratz.”</p>
<p>“Major De Rivia? Oh no, no sir kindly disperse and leave at once. I want none of your bad luck here.”</p>
<p>“Hm,” Geralt grunted.</p>
<p>“Excuse me sir,” Jaskier puffed up, indignation crossing his young face, “That was unfair and quite indecorous of you and – “</p>
<p>Geralt put a hand on his shoulder, a warning to not push too far.</p>
<p>The Captain flared his nostrils.</p>
<p>Geralt turned to the Frenchmen, said something to him quietly and the man nodded, gathering the other villagers and clearing the path of the convoy.</p>
<p>“What did you say to him?” the Captain gaped.</p>
<p>“I offered my help. Come on Jaskier,” Geralt strode away from the Captain, pulling Roach with him and Jaskier smirked at the Captain as he walked past.</p>
<p>“He won’t be around to protect you forever Private,” the Captain spat at him, “You would do well to remember to respect your superiors.”</p>
<p>There was a quip, a cheeky comment on the tip of his tongue but he refrained himself, instead rushing after the Major.</p>
<p>As they followed the French villagers over the rise, Jaskier couldn’t help but mull over the Captain’s words. If he could have it his way, he would be by Geralt’s side until the end of his days.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Fuck,” Geralt grunted as the destroyed village came into view.</p>
<p>The place had been bombed mercilessly. No building stood intact and most of them were still on fire. Rubble, timber, thatching, and bodies lay strewn across the scorched earth.<br/>The villagers that had led them here, ran over to the others who were still trying to pull people out of the debris. Screams and embers filled the air.</p>
<p>“Shit,” Jaskier breathed next to him.</p>
<p>He cast a glance at the Private and recognised the look in his blue eyes. It never gets easier, he thought.</p>
<p>Setting his jaw, Geralt left Roach and launched himself towards the village, stopping by the nearest house and speaking quickly to the woman who was frantically trying to shift crumbling stone.</p>
<p>“Jaskier,” he called and the Private hurried over, “Help me with this.”</p>
<p>Jaskier nodded and grabbed hold of the length of wood Geralt was trying to dislodge.</p>
<p>“Careful,” he grumbled as dust and debris showered them.</p>
<p>Jaskier had a blank expression on his face as he worked and Geralt hoped he could keep himself together long enough to help these people.</p>
<p>He knew what Jaskier was feeling, he had been there once too, but he had shut off and repressed all the pain and emotion so long ago that he was unfazed by the horror surrounding him. </p>
<p>They worked quickly and were able to free the woman’s husband. He had terrible burns along his arms, but he would survive.</p>
<p>Another woman, crying hysterically, ran over to them and grabbed Geralt’s arm.</p>
<p>“My child! My child!” she wailed, her accent thick, “Please. Stuck. Help.”</p>
<p>Geralt followed her, Jaskier hard on his heels.</p>
<p>“In there, in there,” the woman pointed to a collapsed house where he could hear a young girl crying.</p>
<p>Jaskier paled.</p>
<p>Geralt inspected the caved in house. He was wary to touch anything in case he brought the rest of the thatched roof down. There was a gap between the timbers though.</p>
<p>“Jaskier. You’re smaller than me. See if you can fit through that gap.”</p>
<p>Jaskier dumped his pack, rifle and guitar and did as he was told, determination set in his expression. Geralt watched him wriggle his way between the balanced wood, heart in his throat.</p>
<p>The beams creaked and dust spilled down.</p>
<p>“Jaskier?” Geralt shouted.</p>
<p>“I’ve got her!”</p>
<p>Geralt could just see the Private in the gloom, bundling the small girl to his chest and carefully trying to squeeze his way back through.</p>
<p>The wood cracked and the roof fell in.</p>
<p>The woman screamed.</p>
<p>“Jaskier!” Geralt thundered.</p>
<p>He threw himself on the shifting debris, ripping wood and stone and thatch out of the way.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” he snarled.</p>
<p>He had only known Jaskier for a few days but if anything happened to him…</p>
<p>He heard coughing and tore more thatch from the wreckage. Relief filled him.</p>
<p>There was Jaskier, dusty, a nasty cut seeping blood on the left side of his forehead, curled around the child to protect her. He coughed again, but the girl was silent.</p>
<p>“Jaskier,” Geralt reached for him and Jaskier gingerly took his hand.</p>
<p>Geralt hauled him out of the house and sat him down before his knees gave way. The child was still pressed tightly to his chest but there was a nasty hollowing of her skull and Geralt knew she was dead.</p>
<p>The woman wailed, snatching her child from Jaskier’s arms.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” was all he could rasp, before a bought of coughing seized him. </p>
<p>Geralt placed a steadying hand on his shoulder and squeezed.</p>
<p>“Not your fault. You tried,” he grumbled.</p>
<p>“Right, yeah,” Jaskier stared blankly at the ground and Geralt knelt next to him.</p>
<p>He inspected the cut on Jaskier’s head. He took a clean rag and his water bottle from his pack and set to cleaning the wound. Jaskier hissed at the contact but let Geralt tend to him.<br/>The Major couldn’t help the twist in his gut as he studied Jaskier’s face, and those usually bright blue eyes were dull and glazed over.</p>
<p>“Just rest here. You’ve done enough,” Geralt threw the bloody rag into the nearest fire and after making sure Jaskier wasn’t about to pass out, went back to helping the other villagers.</p>
<p>It wasn’t long before everyone who was trapped was rescued and many of the villagers thanked him repeatedly. </p>
<p>Geralt was surprised to see how little injuries the survivors had and thanked god for this needed mercy.</p>
<p>Then he heard it. The hum in the air. Felt the vibrations. </p>
<p>He looked up and there, racing towards them were two Jerry aircrafts.</p>
<p>The villagers screamed, darting in their panic. </p>
<p>The thundering sound of machine gun fire rattled Geralt’s teeth and bullets bounced off the compact earth, mowing down villagers. </p>
<p>Geralt ducked for cover as the second plane open fired, narrowly missing the spray of bullets that showered down where he had been standing a moment before. The aircrafts swooped up and round, readying for another attack.</p>
<p>A scream pierced the air and Geralt spun round as a woman was trying to drag her husband’s bullet riddled corpse with her. Geralt rushed to her just as more bullets rained down.</p>
<p>Something slammed into his side, knocking the wind out of him as he crashed to the ground.</p>
<p>“Stay down,” Jaskier snarled at him, rolling off him and crawling to cover.</p>
<p>Geralt followed, glancing back at the woman who was lying dead on top of her husband.</p>
<p>They sat with their backs pressed hard against crumbling stone, waiting for a chance to get out of there.</p>
<p>Jaskier was trembling and breathing hard.</p>
<p>Geralt kept himself composed and leaned out of their hiding spot, trying to spot Roach. He knew she would get out of the way of the gunfire. He also knew that she would look for him. He saw her pacing at the edge of the village, whinnying in distress, but unharmed. </p>
<p>“Jaskier, we need to get to Roach,” he turned back to the Private.</p>
<p>Jaskier nodded, waiting for Geralt to tell him what to do.</p>
<p>“Stay low, follow me,” Geralt slipped out from the wall and moved quickly to duck behind a mound of timber. </p>
<p>Jaskier followed him closely.</p>
<p>They moved again, short distances, slowly getting closer to the chestnut mare.</p>
<p>Geralt dived to the side, pulling Jaskier with him, and another torrent of bullets lanced off the ground in front of them. The noise of the plane engines was deafening and Geralt couldn’t hear himself think.</p>
<p>He prayed that Roach stayed where she was because if she moved, they would have to find a different way out of the village.</p>
<p>Luck was with them and they reached her.</p>
<p>“Easy,” Geralt caught her reins and reeled her in.</p>
<p>He gave Jaskier a leg up onto her back, swung himself up and kept her in close to the crumbled buildings, trying to stay as low and out of sight as possible. </p>
<p>The screams of the villagers still rang in his ears but there was nothing more he could do. He couldn’t defend them from a merciless airstrike.</p>
<p>When the aircrafts broke off to loop back again, Geralt kicked Roach on, breaking cover and galloping as fast as her hooves would carry them away from the village and the havoc wreaked there.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They didn’t stop for a long time. After the initial flurry of panic, Geralt had kept Roach at a steady pace and they had ridden non-stop for almost a full day.</p>
<p>Geralt was very aware of Jaskier’s laboured breathing as the Private drifted in and out of fevered sleep. He could feel the unnatural heat coming off Jaskier in waves and knew they’d have to stop soon.</p>
<p>He really didn’t want to set up camp out in the countryside and hoped with everything he had that they came across a village or town before night fell.</p>
<p>Jaskier needed somewhere warm and comfortable to sleep and Geralt needed a break from the worry plaguing him.</p>
<p>As the sun blinked its last light of the day, Geralt spotted the glow of a town in the distance and he spurred Roach on, exhausted as she was.</p>
<p>The closer he got, the more foreboding he felt. There were trucks and jeeps lining the sides of the road. Stacks of sandbags, crates of ammunition. And soldiers. Lots and lots of soldiers swarming all through the town, all carrying out their little tasks in preparation for... whatever was coming next.</p>
<p>They must be close to the Front Line.</p>
<p>He slowed Roach down as he approached a group of officers and called out to them.</p>
<p>“Evening gentlemen, is there a doctor or medic going about? My friend is sick,” he grumbled.</p>
<p>“Major,” one of the men who was smoking a pipe jerked his head, indicating the next street, “But be careful. That one aint too friendly.”</p>
<p>Geralt thanked him and twitched Roach’s reins, guiding her down the bustling street, trying to ignore the man’s ominous words.</p>
<p>He halted her outside a house that had a red cross crudely pinned to the door and dismounted. He helped Jaskier slide off, supporting him as his knees gave way and took him into the house.</p>
<p>Inside was bigger that he had anticipated. The wide, open room was covered in makeshift cots, each with a groaning, bloodied soldier. The back of the room closed off into a smaller area and there was someone moving about in there.</p>
<p>“Hello?” Geralt growled, “I need your help.”</p>
<p>“Everyone needs my help,” came a woman’s drawl from the back.</p>
<p>She stepped among the cots and Geralt forgot how to breath for a moment.</p>
<p>The woman was staggeringly beautiful with long black hair that fell to her waist in delicate waves and strange violet eyes. </p>
<p>Geralt swallowed hard.</p>
<p>“My friend. He has a fever,” he grumbled, mouth suddenly very dry.</p>
<p>“A fever, Major? Most come in here with body parts missing and you want me to treat a fever? And he’s a Private? My, my, what a heart of gold you have sir,” she smiled at him, sweetly and unnervingly.</p>
<p>“Please,” Geralt urged, tightening his grip around Jaskier who was slipping in and out of consciousness. </p>
<p>She nodded her head and pointed to an empty cot at the back of the room. Geralt laid Jaskier down and she approached him with several bottles in her hands. </p>
<p>“What’s your name?” Geralt blinked at her as she knelt beside Jaskier and started to check him over.</p>
<p>“Yennefer,” she didn’t look at him.</p>
<p>“Yennefer. I’m – “</p>
<p>“Major Geralt De Rivia, the White Wolf, I know. There is only one man wandering these warzones with white hair and amber eyes,” she uncapped a bottle and tipped the contents down Jaskier’s throat.</p>
<p>“Is he going to be okay?” he shifted uncomfortably.</p>
<p>“Do you doubt my abilities?”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“Then yes, he will be fine. He will need rest once his fever breaks and he wakes up, but your Private will make a full recovery. Do you want me to dress his head whilst I’m at it?”</p>
<p>“Hm.”</p>
<p>Yennefer busied herself with the cut on Jaskier’s forehead, her touches gentle and light.</p>
<p>“He is important to you?” she asked once she finished, standing up and moving to wash her hands at the back of the room.</p>
<p>“He saved my life. He is… the first person to look at me for who I am and not for my mistakes,” Geralt grumbled, “Yes. He is important to me.”</p>
<p>“You need rest,” she crooned, wiping her hands dry and tilting her head at him.</p>
<p>He nodded, suddenly overcome with weariness. </p>
<p>“There is an inn just down the road. Tell them I sent you and they will give you a room. You can come back in the morning for your friend,” she blinked at him.</p>
<p>“Thank you, Yennefer,” he hummed.</p>
<p>She dipped her head, dismissing him and turned her attention to one of the men groaning in another cot.</p>
<p>Geralt left the house feeling strange. He patted Roach on the nose and led her down the street to the inn.</p>
<p>The distant rumble of shell fire echoed in the night air and Geralt’s face set in a grim expression.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>comments and feedback are greatly appreciated</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Geralt had rolled his eyes when Jaskier jumped at the chance to play his guitar for the inn’s patrons, mostly soldiers. </p><p>Well on the way to recovery, Jaskier flitted about the tables, animated and charming, singing a song he had composed about Geralt De Rivia, the Major who stopped to help a village when another British Captain wouldn’t. </p><p>The tune was catchy and soon the men at the tables were joining in with the chorus. </p><p>“Free drinks for the Major,” someone had called to rigorous applause and Jaskier plonked himself down opposite Geralt as they were both handed a pint of beer.</p><p>“You’re welcome,” Jaskier quirked his eyebrows at him as he drank deeply from his glass.</p><p>Geralt just shook his head, a small smile pulling at his lips.</p><p>“I’ve changed your image. Well, here at least. I’ve changed your image here. And good stories only spread,” Jaskier grinned.</p><p>“Hm.”</p><p>“Man of many words as always. ‘Thank you Jaskier. You are amazing Jaskier. What would I do without you Jaskier?’ ah of course, you are most welcome. How could I not honour my greatest muse with ravishing tales of his bravery.” </p><p>Geralt watched him, an amused expression on his face. </p><p>“Thank you for saving my life, Jaskier,” he rumbled.</p><p>“Right, yeah, I did do that didn’t I?” Jaskier took another drink, his blue eyes sparkling.</p><p>“Jaskier – “</p><p>“No, don’t say it. You’ll only ruin my evening. Let’s not talk of the war. Let’s talk of… the coast. Let’s go there. You and me. Get away from everything for a while. Do what pleases us,” Jaskier’s expression twitched to earnest and Geralt knew he was being serious.</p><p>“I have to go to the Front tomorrow,” Geralt grumbled.</p><p>Jaskier sighed, wilting slightly. </p><p>“You don’t have to come with me,” the Major tried.</p><p>“I am coming with you. There is no way I’m letting you go off into the maw of the German’s alone,” Jaskier fixed him with an unreadable expression. Geralt swore he heard a falter in Jaskier’s steady breathing.</p><p>“Fine.”</p><p>They shared a room that night. The two small beds separated by a bedside table. Jaskier fell asleep quickly, buried in blankets right up to his chin.</p><p>Geralt couldn’t sleep.</p><p>Instead he watched the slow rise and fall of Jaskier’s chest. </p><p>What was it about this man that made him so protective? He hated the idea of Jaskier being hurt. He had seen it enough times in the last few days, and it twisted something deep in his stomach and tightened his chest, increased his pulse.</p><p>He wanted to give Jaskier everything. All the happiness he deserved. He wanted to pluck him out of this war, bundle him up and carry him safely home where nothing could ever hurt him again. </p><p>He had never felt affection like this before, had never felt anything like this before, and he let it warm him, tear down the walls he had built after that horrific day all those years ago where he had lost his men, lost himself. He wanted to let Jaskier in.</p><p>As he lay there, staring at the warped wooden ceiling above his head, listening to the muffled noises of the bar below, he smiled. </p><p>Eventually he fell into sleep, but it wasn’t long before dawn peaked thought the window and Geralt blinked awake. He rolled over in protest only to shoot up straight when he saw Jaskier’s bed was empty.</p><p>He looked about him in alarm but the door to their room opened as Jaskier strutted though holding two tankards of fresh milk and a plate of sweet breads.</p><p>“Morning,” Jaskier beamed, placing the plate and tankards on the bedside table.</p><p>“How the hell did you get your hands on this?” Geralt stared at the breakfast Jaskier presented him with.</p><p>“I know my way around a baker’s wife,” he frowned, “Wait, that came out wrong. That’s not what I meant.”</p><p>“Sure,” Geralt took a ravenous bite of bread and chugged his milk.</p><p>The distress on Jaskier’s face was real so Geralt nudged him to show he was joking.</p><p>The Private let out the breath he had been holding and stuffed his mouth with sweet bread.</p><p>Once breakfast was over, Geralt paid the innkeeper handsomely to take care of Roach for him whilst he was away. He couldn’t take her into the trenches.</p><p>They gathered their things, Jaskier reluctantly leaving his guitar behind with Roach for safe keeping and left the inn.</p><p>“I want to see Yennefer before we go,” Geralt gruffed.</p><p>Jaskier nodded and they ducked into the red cross house on their way past.</p><p>“Good morning Geralt, Jaskier,” Yennefer narrowed her eyes at them as she stripped fresh linen for bandaging. </p><p>“We are off to the Front Line,” Geralt blinked at her, wanting to say so much more, but not sure what he even wanted to say.</p><p>“Good luck,” she said simply, “Come see me again if you make it out of there alive.”</p><p>“Brilliant,” Jaskier grumbled as they left the house, “Now I feel so much better. And what was the point of that visit exactly?”</p><p>“I… don’t know,” Geralt frowned, marching through the sandbag lined streets, “I just… needed to see her again.”</p><p>Something flashed across Jaskier’s face, so fast that Geralt almost missed it.</p><p>“Well, if we’re lucky, you will get to see her again,” there was a slight bitterness in his voice.</p><p>Unsure what had just happened, Geralt took the lead and made for the outskirts of the town.</p><p>He spotted a Captain organising soldiers and hurried up to him.</p><p>“Captain,” he greeted.</p><p>“Major,” the other nodded.</p><p>“We are heading for the Front Line. Can you direct us?”</p><p>A knowing look fixed the Captain’s face.</p><p>“We are headed there now, you can tag along with my unit if you like,” he said.</p><p>“Thank you,” Geralt dipped his head.</p><p>The Captain, expecting Geralt to fall into step beside him, looked confused and offended when the Major went to join the Private that was following him at the back of the unit.</p><p>“Right,” he grumbled, “Let’s be off then.”</p><p>They marched steadily out of the town and down the meandering farmland.</p><p>Jaskier was unusually quiet and Geralt was unnerved by the strange silence.</p><p>The unit crested the rise and both Geralt and Jaskier halted.</p><p>Sprawling before them were miles and miles of trench, latticing the earth with their ugly zigzags in both directions. In front of the trenches was a stretch of cruel wire and gaping craters, no man’s land. And just in the distance, they could see where the German trenches cut through the earth.</p><p>Jaskier swallowed hard, his heart thundering in his chest.</p><p>Geralt took a deep sigh and started forwards.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Geralt knew his way around a trench and was very familiar with the set up before him. He mentally mapped the maze as he approached, working out the quickest route to get to where he needed to be.</p>
<p>Jaskier kept pace with him.</p>
<p>“I didn’t realise how close the German’s would be,” he glanced at Geralt.</p>
<p>“Trench warfare is very compact,” Geralt looked back at him, “But when you’re out there, trying to cross no man’s land, those few hundred yards feel like miles.”</p>
<p>They followed the Captain’s men down the slope and into a roughly cut gully with compact, vertical walls that got higher and higher the further into the trench network they walked.</p>
<p>Jaskier stayed very close to Geralt, afraid he would get lost. Geralt thanked the Captain and set off to find the commanding officer. </p>
<p>Clusters of soldiers leaned against the haphazard walls; some watched them pass, others took no notice. They all had grim, exhausted expressions on their dirty faces.</p>
<p>There was a strange chill in the trench and Geralt felt Jaskier press closer.</p>
<p>His pulse quickened and he reached out to reassure the Private.</p>
<p>They wove their way through the streets of the trench, Jaskier quickly losing all sense of direction, boots slopping through wet mud, breath shallow in the confined space.</p>
<p>Geralt stopped when they reached a long stretch of trench that sloped upwards instead of running vertical, rope ladders tumbling into the mud underfoot. There were many soldiers here, compact against the walls, rifles bayoneted, and fear in their eyes. Waiting. </p>
<p>The Front Line. </p>
<p>Geralt pushed past, Jaskier right behind him. They made slower progress here. </p>
<p>“Oi gov!” one soldier snapped when Jaskier stumbled over him, “Watch it.”</p>
<p>“Sorry,” Jaskier mumbled, horrified by how thin and run down the soldier looked.</p>
<p>“Private,” Geralt husked and the man snapped to attention, “How much further to the commanding officer?”</p>
<p>“’Bout a hundred yards, sir,” the solider grimaced.</p>
<p>Geralt kept going.</p>
<p>He could see the entrance to an underground bunker and breathed a sigh of relief. He eyed the man standing guard.</p>
<p>“Lieutenant, I am here to see your commanding officer,” he growled.</p>
<p>The Lieutenant gaped at him.</p>
<p>“Major De Rivia! You came sir!” he stammered, “The General had hoped you would come soon.”</p>
<p>“Well, I’m here,” Geralt gruffed.</p>
<p>“How do you like our set up here?” the Lieutenant seemed to be searching for Geralt’s approval.</p>
<p>“It’s great,” Jaskier chipped in, shuffling on the spot, “I like what you’ve done with the place. I especially like all the mud. Nice touch.”</p>
<p>“You will watch your tone, Private. Disrespect will not be tolerated,” the Lieutenant snapped at him.</p>
<p>“Is he inside?” Geralt indicated to the bunker.</p>
<p>“Yes sir, he is. He’s with a few officers, discussing our next moves.”</p>
<p>“Hm,” Geralt grumbled.</p>
<p>“Tell the man what you really think,” Jaskier mumbled.</p>
<p>The Lieutenant scoffed with indignation.</p>
<p>“Remember your place!” he snarled, “This is your last warning. Major De Rivia, sir, you cannot take this – this – Private with you to speak to the General.”</p>
<p>Geralt sniffed. He turned to Jaskier.</p>
<p>“You’d better stay out here then, I won’t be long,” he said.</p>
<p>“Geralt, please don’t leave me out here,” Jaskier’s eyes widened.</p>
<p>“Insolence!” the Lieutenant screeched at Jaskier, back handing him hard, “This man is your superior and you will address him as such!”</p>
<p>Jaskier spat blood from his split lip, slightly dazed.</p>
<p>Geralt caught the man’s arm, holding it tight, twisting it hard, eyes gleaming with rage.</p>
<p>“Touch my Private again and I will end you, do you understand?” he snarled.</p>
<p>The Lieutenant whimpered, nodding and Geralt released him.</p>
<p>Geralt furrowed his eyebrows at Jaskier.</p>
<p>“I’m okay,” Jaskier straightened up, wiping his lip with the back of his hand.</p>
<p>“Stay here,” Geralt told him again.</p>
<p>Jaskier rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.</p>
<p>The look on the Lieutenants face would have made him laugh if his cheek wasn’t stinging in pain.</p>
<p>Geralt grunted, then descended into the gloomy bunker.</p>
<p>His eyes adjusted quickly to the low lighting, orange oil lamps dotted here and there, and announced is presence by clearing his throat.</p>
<p>“Geralt De Rivia,” the General behind the desk beamed.</p>
<p>The other three officers in the room turned to look at him.</p>
<p>“General Mousesack,” Geralt greeted the man with a firm handshake and a hearty slap on the back.</p>
<p>“I haven’t seen you since, what was it?” the dark-haired General tilted his head.</p>
<p>“1915, the talks with Bulgaria,” Geralt nodded.</p>
<p>“As long ago as that? Almost 3 years? How have you been?” Mousesack laughed.</p>
<p>“I’ve been better,” Geralt folded his arms across his chest.</p>
<p>“Ah yes, of course. The border of Italy, how rash of me. Well I’ve got you here now so I will hear nothing more on the subject.”</p>
<p>“Why am I here?” Geralt approached the desk.</p>
<p>“I need your expertise Geralt. We are waiting for the order to go over the top and once we take the Jerry trenches, we will need a plan of action to push forwards,” the General splayed his hands on the map on the desk which had the battlefield marked out.</p>
<p>“You don’t need me to make a plan,” Geralt scoffed, “The plans come from higher up. You just execute them.”</p>
<p>“Yes, well, I don’t particularly like the current plan. Too much marching and not enough keeping hold of what we reclaim,” Mousesack studied him with grey eyes.</p>
<p>“I see,” Geralt leaned over the map, “How many men do you have here?”</p>
<p>“Enough to hold the German trenches and push through to the border of Belgium,” the General waved his had over the allied defences, “but not enough to keep what we find there. We need a new strategy.”</p>
<p>“I see,” Geralt frowned at the map.</p>
<p>“I’m glad you’re here, old friend. No one has a better eye than you for this kind of thing. I’m just glad you came before the order to go over the top of the trenches did. Once that comes through there’s no stopping it. We’ve been expecting it for days and it could happen at any moment,” Mousesack plucked at his collar.</p>
<p>“Hm,” Geralt studied the map, “What if… instead of pushing straight, you enter Belgium here instead?”</p>
<p>He tapped the area of the map with his finger. </p>
<p>“Mons?” Mousesack rubbed his chin.</p>
<p>“It would be easier to hold Mons with fewer men as it is an already fortified city,” Geralt nodded, “And from there, we can support the allies to push the Germans back into Luxemburg, then Germany.”</p>
<p>“Yes, I see. That could work, but how – “</p>
<p>The General was interrupted by the shrill toot of a whistle.</p>
<p>“Damn it to heck,” Mousesack cursed, “Now I’ll need to regroup the troops in the German trench so I can organise this.”</p>
<p>The whistle blast came again and Geralt could hear the clambering of the soldiers as they climbed out of the trench.</p>
<p>Then, his blood ran cold.</p>
<p>“Jaskier.”</p>
<p>“Sorry?” Mousesack frowned.</p>
<p>“Jaskier.”</p>
<p>“What the fuck is a Jaskier?”</p>
<p>Geralt didn’t give him an answer. He sprinted from the bunker, blundering into the bright daylight and collided with a soldier who was trying to get to the ropes. Geralt fell into the mud and struggled to get up again.</p>
<p>He spotted the Lieutenant who was barking orders at the soldiers as they hurried out of the trench.</p>
<p>Geralt flew at him, hands fisted in his lapel and slamming him into the compact mud wall.</p>
<p>“Jaskier” he snarled, “Where is he?”</p>
<p>“Everyone must go. Those are the orders,” the man whimpered.</p>
<p>“No,” Geralt felt like lead, his stomach dropped, his blood turned cold.</p>
<p>His world spun and slammed to a halt all at the same time. He stumbled, grabbing onto the Lieutenant for support.</p>
<p>The whistle blast came again, long and loud, and the next wave of soldiers pushed towards the ropes.</p>
<p>Without a moment of hesitation, Geralt clambered out with them.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>comments and feedback are greatly appreciated!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was loud. So unbearably loud.</p>
<p>Shouting, rattling of bullets, explosions of shells, his own thundering heart. </p>
<p>Jaskier stumbled forward, clutching his rifle, fear and adrenaline spiking through him.</p>
<p>When the whistle had blown, the soldiers had scrambled up the rope ladders. When he had hesitated, the Lieutenant put a pistol to his head, telling him to move or he would be shot for cowardice.</p>
<p>He was jostled about in the surge, losing his footing more than once until another soldier hauled him over the top of the trench, thrust him down and ran off, only to be shredded by a ripple of machine gun fire.</p>
<p>He slipped on the mud underfoot, catching himself on the coils of barbed wire that rose like snakes out of the ground.</p>
<p>He was showered in mud as a shell hit nearby and his breath faltered in his chest as the tremor rolled through the ground.</p>
<p>Maybe he could just lay here, but as soon as the thought formed another soldier was dragging him up by the scruff, throwing him forwards and shouting, “Keep moving Private!”</p>
<p>A bullet whizzed past his ear and thudded into the soldier behind him. The man screamed and crumpled to the ground.</p>
<p>Jaskier looked away, driving himself on. </p>
<p>Go back, get shot by the Lieutenant. Go forward, get shot by the German’s. Stand still and you’re an easy target for shells.</p>
<p>His stomach physically hurt as he clambered over ridges of churned up earth, the inescapable terror crushing down on him.</p>
<p>“Grenade!” came a shout to his left and his world exploded.</p>
<p>He was thrown into a mess of barbed wire, ears ringing, eyes burning. Blood dripped from his face and he couldn’t tell if it was his own, or someone else’s. He retched at the idea.</p>
<p>He managed to tear himself free of the wire, his uniform ripped in multiple places, and forced himself to his feet again.</p>
<p>His vision was swimming, his head pounding. His heart was banging about his ribcage as the panic set in.</p>
<p>A soldier collided with him and they both splashed into the wet mud. His rifle slipped from his hands and he grabbed for it desperately. </p>
<p>He caught it but received a boot in the face as the soldier who had crashed into him floundered in the mud.</p>
<p>Jaskier’s teeth rattled and he tasted blood.</p>
<p>He pulled himself up to his feet again, legs shaking violently and stumbled on, following the soldiers who were rushing past him.</p>
<p>His breath sobbed in his chest. Everything ached. </p>
<p>Another bullet flew past him and he tumbled down in his haste to avoid having his head blown off.</p>
<p>Jaskier’s hand squelched into something wet and warm and he screamed, snatching his hand back from the intestines spilling from the gut of a solider who had been ripped apart.<br/>The smell. The blood. Jaskier threw up.</p>
<p>He forced himself to his feet again, using his rifle for support. He was weak with fear and disgust. His legs barely held him up.</p>
<p>The ground rumbled with another shell blast and Jaskier watched the earth ahead be torn up and fired high into the sky along with several soldiers now missing body parts.</p>
<p>The noise the flesh made when it slapped into the mud almost emptied his stomach again.</p>
<p>He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be here. Damn him for following that bloody Major! And now, he thought with a wail, he would probably never see Geralt again.</p>
<p>A shockwave from another shell shook the ground from under him and he collapsed painfully. He couldn’t get up.</p>
<p>He was going to die here. This was it. This was the end.</p>
<p>Then, through the chaos and bloodshed, there came a high-pitched whistle. Very different to the one that had sent them to their doom. This was the sound of retreat.</p>
<p>Jaskier lay still for a moment, still trying to process what that meant. </p>
<p>He lifted his head when someone rushed past him and he jolted at the sight of white hair and a sword strapped to the soldier’s back.</p>
<p>“Geralt!” he rasped, his voice sticking in his throat.</p>
<p>His arms wobbled as he pushed himself up.</p>
<p>“Geralt!” he called again, voice a little stronger but not enough to get the Major’s attention, and he was quickly disappearing from view.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” Jaskier dug his feet into the mud, gathering the last of his strength, and scrambled to his feet.</p>
<p>“Geralt!” he screamed.</p>
<p>The Major spun round.</p>
<p>His faced dropped when he saw him and Jaskier almost fell again from relief.</p>
<p>“Jaskier?” Geralt ran at him, catching him as his legs gave way.</p>
<p>Tears streamed down Jaskier’s face.</p>
<p>“You came for me,” he wept.</p>
<p>“Of course I did,” Geralt hummed.</p>
<p>He frantically checked him for injuries. Jaskier was covered in muck and blood but, remarkably, apart from a few scratches and a bust lip, he was unharmed.</p>
<p>The rapid torrent of machine gunfire forced Geralt to haul Jaskier to his feet and together they made their way back to the trench.</p>
<p>Now out of range of the Germans relentless shell fire, Jaskier felt the first flicker of hope that things were going to be alright.</p>
<p>As they approached the top of the trench a soldier fumbled past them, sputtering incoherently, a hand still wrapped around an active grenade.</p>
<p>Jaskier saw it before Geralt did and he pulled Geralt to the ground with him. The solider tripped, letting go of the grenade and in the split second it took for the explosion to happen, Geralt cursed.</p>
<p>The grenade went off. Jaskier and Geralt were blasted into the trench and the last thing Jaskier remembered before passing out was the white-hot pain that burned through his arm.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was a strange static, buzzing noise in the air, high-pitched and consistent. </p>
<p>Geralt tried to move but his body wouldn’t respond. </p>
<p>He wasn’t sure where he was. His eyes wouldn’t focus.</p>
<p>The air smelled… sterile. </p>
<p>He became aware that something was being dabbed against his right ear. He blinked hard. </p>
<p>There was a mumbling coming from… somewhere, but he couldn’t make any of the words out.</p>
<p>He tried to talk but the muscles in his face felt heavy and sluggish.</p>
<p>“Don’t move,” the words were becoming clearer and his eyes could pick out the slatted ceiling above him.</p>
<p>“Geralt, listen to me,” a woman’s voice, he recognised it but couldn’t work out why, “Your right ear drum is burst, and I’ve had to remove part of the ear but you’re going to be okay. It should all heal quite nicely.”</p>
<p>“Shlwhu?” he tried.</p>
<p>“Shh, don’t try to talk. Just rest.”</p>
<p>The passage of time became a guessing game as Geralt slipped in and out of sleep. Days? Weeks? Who knew? All he knew was there was something important he needed, but he couldn’t remember what it was.</p>
<p>Eventually, as his head cleared and his vision returned to normal, he was able to get a good look at where he was.</p>
<p>He was lying in a cot. One of many that inhabited the floor of the light and airy room. Realisation dawned on him and he struggled to sit up.</p>
<p>“You are ridiculous, you know that? Lie back down,” the woman’s voice floated above him.</p>
<p>“Yennefer,” he breathed, allowing her to push him back into the cot.</p>
<p>She appeared in his line of sight, a small smile twitching her lips. She leaned over him, giving him a once over, brow furrowed in concern.</p>
<p>“You were very lucky,” she lifted the bandage wrapped round his head, inspecting her handiwork.</p>
<p>Lucky? </p>
<p>It all came rushing back. The solider, the grenade, the explosion – </p>
<p>“Jaskier!” Geralt struggled to sit up and Yennefer pushed him back down again, “Jaskier – “</p>
<p>“Is okay,” she soothed him.</p>
<p>Geralt stared up at her, amber eyes wide.</p>
<p>“His arm was badly burned but other than that, he got off lightly. Looks like someone up there is watching out for you both,” she perched on the end of his cot.</p>
<p>“Where is he? Can I see him?” Geralt shuffled impatiently.</p>
<p>“When I give you the all clear. He’s in the inn, waiting for you. Of course, he wanted to be by your side, but he kept getting in the way, so I sent him out,” Yennefer huffed.</p>
<p>Geralt felt the tension he hadn’t been aware of holding release and he flopped back onto the cot.</p>
<p>It was another day before Yennefer let him go. </p>
<p>He was still bandaged up, but he was steady on his feet and his ear had stopped ringing. Even though she wanted him to stay longer, she knew she couldn’t keep him.</p>
<p>Geralt walked slowly down the street towards the inn. </p>
<p>The town was eerily silent, no longer bustling with soldiers, and there was an oppressive sorrow hanging in the air.</p>
<p>Geralt reached out to open the door to the inn and took a bated breath. His stomach knotted. His heart fluttered. He entered.</p>
<p>One or two soldiers sat about, nursing drinks, not looking at anything in particular. </p>
<p>He glanced around and spotted him.</p>
<p>Jaskier was on the floor. His back to the wall. His guitar laying by his feet.</p>
<p>He had his hands on either side of his face, his elbows resting on his knees that were drawn up to his chest. His left arm was bandaged from his wrist to up to his shoulder.</p>
<p>He looked so small and vulnerable, and Geralt’s heart broke for him.</p>
<p>“Jaskier?” he hummed softly.</p>
<p>Jaskier looked up. The joy, the relief, the giddiness that lit up his face and clouded his eyes took Geralt’s breath away.</p>
<p>Geralt was upon him in an instant and wrapped him in a tight hug, being careful not to catch his bandaged arm.</p>
<p>Jaskier’s hands found their way to clasp at the nape of Geralt’s neck and he buried his face in Geralt’s shoulder.</p>
<p>Jaskier cried.</p>
<p>Geralt could feel tears pricking at his own eyes as they just held each other. </p>
<p>He carded his fingers though Jaskier’s dark hair, trying to convey reassurance through the pressure of his fingertips.</p>
<p>When he felt the tremors wracking Jaskier’s smaller frame subside he leaned back.</p>
<p>The Private’s blue eyes were swimming with so many different emotions that Geralt had to bite his cheek to stop himself from crying out.</p>
<p>Neither said anything. They didn’t have to. It was all right there, plain as day.</p>
<p>Jaskier closed the space between them first, pressing his lips to Geralt’s so tenderly that Geralt quivered.</p>
<p>He pulled back, drinking in those eyes, that soft smile, and he brushed the pad of his thumb down Jaskier’s cheek, catching the fresh tears rolling from his eyes.</p>
<p>Jaskier blinked slowly.</p>
<p>This time Geralt leaned in, capturing Jaskier’s mouth with his own, twining his fingers into his hair.</p>
<p>Jaskier cupped Geralt’s cheek, his injured arm resting between them.</p>
<p>They sat there, foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air, for a long time. </p>
<p>Geralt could feel Jaskier’s breath against his cheek and he slowed his breathing to match it.</p>
<p>Jaskier let his head slip down onto Geralt’s shoulder and Geralt wrapped his arms round him, keeping him close.</p>
<p>Eventually, Geralt broke the peaceful silence.</p>
<p>“Jaskier, how long have I been… you know?” </p>
<p>Jaskier took a sharp breath.</p>
<p>“About two weeks?” he muttered.</p>
<p>“What happened? After the retreat?”</p>
<p>“It was chaos for a while. They had underestimated the German’s artillery. We lost thousands. Not just here. The order to go over the top of the trenches was put into effect at several points along the Western Front. We managed to hold our ground, but the defeat cost us dearly,” Jaskier paused.</p>
<p>Geralt waited for him to continue.</p>
<p>“I woke up in Yennefer’s place. I saw you. You looked…” he swallowed hard, “Bad. Awful. I thought you were going to die.”</p>
<p>“I’m fine,” Geralt rested his head on top of Jaskier’s.</p>
<p>“Geralt, what’s going to happen now?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know. Really, I don’t.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They walked steadily together down the winding country road.</p>
<p>Geralt was leading Roach, Jaskier keeping pace beside him.</p>
<p>The warm sun beat down on them as they enjoyed the lazy morning and larks flitted about overhead, weaving sweet tunes as they spiralled and danced in the air. </p>
<p>Geralt’s ear had healed well, even though it was now misshapen and not very pretty to look at.</p>
<p>The burns on Jaskier’s arm had healed nicely too, leaving an ugly scar, but he could still play his guitar, so he didn’t care.</p>
<p>In the weeks following the defeat, Geralt had been granted honourable leave to fully recover. Thanks to Jaskier, the tales of his good deeds had spread and with the bravery he had shown at the trench, General Mousesack had insisted that leave be filed for immediately, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Geralt had agreed, but on one condition.</p>
<p>He glanced at the Private walking next to him, his chest swelling with love and pride.</p>
<p>Now that they were back in England, Jaskier seemed more at peace.</p>
<p>The horrors of the war weren’t forgotten though. Jaskier still woke up screaming during the night and often spaced out during conversations but Geralt made sure he was there to help him through it.</p>
<p>Geralt dreaded the day when their leave came to an end and he would have to take Jaskier back into the carnage that was quickly becoming the Western Front. Things were looking bleak, but, at the moment, Geralt didn’t care. </p>
<p>He was happy. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time.</p>
<p>When Jaskier heard the ocean, he ran ahead, stopping at the edge of the cliffs overlooking the bay, and, just in the distance, Devon.</p>
<p>“Welcome home,” Geralt rumbled affectionally as he caught up.</p>
<p>Jaskier looped an arm round Geralt’s waist and just stood with him, gazing out across the sea.</p>
<p>The salty breeze whipped about them and Jaskier took a deep breath.</p>
<p>“It won’t last though, will it?” Jaskier sighed sadly.</p>
<p>Geralt pulled him closer.</p>
<p>“The war is still waiting,” Jaskier blinked heavily.</p>
<p>“Yes, but it can keep waiting. This time is our time. Right now,” Geralt kissed the top of his head.</p>
<p>Jaskier smiled.</p>
<p>“Yes,” he mused, “I suppose it is.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading this and I really hoped you enjoyed it! I had a lot of fun writing it and I'm very proud with how it turned out.</p>
<p>As always, comments and feedback are greatly appreciated!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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